


Taste of Vengeance

by Venomis



Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Bloodlust, F/M, Vampires, vengeance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-20
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-11-26 00:41:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 17
Words: 15,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18173573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Venomis/pseuds/Venomis
Summary: As Juice wakes up in the morgue, he discovers that he has turned into one of the mightiest creatures on Earth. The road is open to countless possibilities, but he is still drawn back to the club with nothing but vengeance on his mind. Will his former girlfriend be able to lure him back to the light or will he be unstoppable on his path of destruction?





	1. Prologue

_One year earlier_

His body jolted as the man raped him. His empty eyes stared into hers. There was no expression on his face. No horror, no pain – just blankness. As if he had died already.

Abigail's hands clenched around the bars, tears rolling down her cheeks. She was screaming and tugging at the bars but they wouldn’t budge. The black haired man continued impassively; he had no shame, no sympathy, nothing at all as if this was common for him, routine.

She stretched her arm through the bars; trying to touch the face of the man that she loved so much. He however was too far away, she couldn't reach him. She could never reach him.

The world faded.

Now she found herself standing in a dining hall, she could see him at one of the tables eating a piece of pie. The rapist sat on the other side of the table, watching him as well; there was a look in his eyes that made her feel sick. They talked to each other, just a few words, but Abigail was too far and couldn't hear them. She tried to get closer, but it was as if her feet had sunk into the floor, rooting her to the spot.

Both men stood up. She watched as the rapist moved. Holding a knife in one hand, as he wrapped his other arm around him. For a moment Juice's eyes seemed to find hers; his lips bending into a sad smile, a goodbye. Then the black-haired man whispered something in his ear and then struck, stabbing the knife into his neck; time and time again.

Abigail screamed, falling onto her knees, and tried to crawl towards him. She was too late. He fell. Blood pooling on the ground; surrounding the both of them, coating her fingers as she clawed her way closer.

"Juice!" she kept yelling his name, kept trying to get closer to him.

She was the only one. Why did nobody help him? Why did they all let him die?

The blood became thicker, turning into quicksand, pull her down, drowning her...

* * *

Screaming, Abigail shot up in bed, her cheeks wet with tears. Her heart was pounding painfully in her chest, as she breathed in with wild gulps. Her nightie was soaked and sticking to her sweaty body.

"Hey, come here. It was just a nightmare baby," a raspy, sleepy voice sounded.

Abigail shivered as she laid down next to him again. Sobbing softly, she snuggled closer to him, until the warmth of his body calmed her down a bit. Soothingly, his hand stroked her side.

"Was it the same one again?"

She nodded against his shoulder, desperately breathing in his scent. It always felt so real, each and every time. "These nightmares... they scare me so much," she whispered.

"They're just dreams, sweetie." He pressed a kiss to her temple. "I'm not going anywhere. Promise. That shit with Roosevelt, that's all over. The club gave me a second chance. I'm never going to let something like that happen again, baby. Never."

Tears slipped between her eyelashes. But what if he blew his chance? What would happen then? She however kept that thought to herself, it wasn’t helpful and she didn't want to give him the feeling that she had no faith in him. But she was scared, so scared to lose him...

"I love you, Juice," she murmured in his tight embrace.

 

"I love you too, sweetheart." He kissed her again. "So much."


	2. Chapter 2

Abigail pulled the lid off the plastic container and shoved the contents of the plate in. Hopefully it tasted just as good after being frozen. Juice always loved the new dishes she tried, but often a bit of the taste got lost when it was being reheated. Tonight wasn't the first time he didn't show up for dinner – it was just part of the club life. Actually if Abigail was being honest, she didn't know any better: it hadn't been any different with her father. Usually Juice called her to let her know he was going to be late, but sometimes he was just too busy. Like today.

She put the container into the freezer and started to wash the dishes. They had a dishwasher too, but she didn't mind to do it by hand. Juice often got frantic when she left too many things in the dishwasher, which she only turned on once every few days, and he rinsed the dishes off so thoroughly that they could be put in the cabinets just as easily.

After cleaning up, she opened a window to get rid of the smell of the baked onion, flopped down on the couch and started an episode of Teen Wolf while getting comfortable in the cushions. She loved to watch Netflix, but Juice was bored by everything that was supernatural and unless it had some horror or gun fights. Usually she didn't mind to being home alone, but she knew her boyfriend wasn't feeling well. He looked pale, had been having trouble sleeping – just like her – and he barely talked to her over the past couple of weeks. Every day she saw the shame in his eyes because he couldn't bring himself to talk about the things that were bothering him and any time she had pressed him to talk it only made things worse.

When she heard the rumbling of a bike coming down the street halfway through the second episode, she paused the show and stood up. Although they had been together for three years and had shared an apartment for almost a year, the prospect of seeing him still made her heart beat faster. Especially now that his worries were consuming him, she wanted to have him close, so they could sit together on the balcony, or cuddle on the couch, in a warm embrace making them both feel safe.

She swung open the door, her smile slipping from her face as she took in her father standing before her.

"Aye, love." He kissed her cheek.

The expression on his face was grim; this wasn't a friendly visit.

"What's going on?" Her voice was shaking.

Her father heaved a sigh. "Let's take a seat."

A sharp pain shot through her chest, her heart skipped a beat. "Did something happen to Juice?"

"C’mon, take a seat, Abigail." His voice compelled.

Quietly, she did as she was told. He took her hand and squeezed. Abigail could barely breath; tears stinging her eyes. He was about to tell her something horrible. Images of her nightmares shot through her head. He couldn’t be in jail, right?

"We found Tara."

The relief was so enormous that a tear glided down her cheek. Juice was fine.

Tara had left a few days ago, taking her sons with her. She couldn’t handle all the violence surrounding the club and had wanted something better for her children. If Abigail had had a little one herself, she might have done the same.

She noticed that her father was holding her glance. "What – what happened?"

"She was murdered. They found her in her house."

"W-what?" Her voice cracked.

Would it ever stop? Only a few weeks ago they had buried Opie... Her stomach cramped as she thought back to his funeral. It was one of the reasons why Tara had wanted to leave, but maybe there really was no way out of this mess.

"I'm sorry, my love. Maybe – maybe it's time you go to Ireland. To Fiona."

She snorted. Her stepmom was the last person she wanted to go to. "And leave Juice?" she muttered. "I'd never do that. You know that."

"You know where he is?"

She looked at him, confused. "I figured he was handling club shit..."

For a moment he seemed on the verge of saying something, but in the end he decided to keep silent.

Abigail bent over and thought about Tara.

She was dead.

It was beyond comprehension.

She hadn't been one of her closest friends, but since they were both Old Ladies there had always been a connection between them. And now she was gone.

"Who did it?" she muttered, wiping her eyes. There however weren’t many tears; since Opie had died she felt numb. Only when Juice was with her, when she looked into his eyes, felt his warmth, did she remember what she was fighting for, what made her heart pound.

"We're still workin' on it. Probably Lin or Marks' men."

Abigail stared at her feet. Who else?

Her father wrapped an arm around her shoulder and kissed her temple. "It'll pass, this shite."

His voice however lacked it’s usual conviction. She felt that he was keeping something from her, but she couldn't find the courage to ask the question.

In the end he stood up, muttering that he had to get back to the clubhouse.

"Lemme know when Juice gets home. I'm... I'm worried about him."

He didn't look at her.

Absent-minded, Abigail nodded.

But Juice never came home.

 


	3. Chapter 3

The dreams had been getting worse. More realistic, more gruesome – and it was getting harder and harder to force them out of her mind. The images were driving her mad; she would wake up screaming at the top of her lungs, raking her nails down her arms, tearing the skin or trying to suffocate herself with her pillow, crying. It had gone from bad to worse – and Juice wasn't there to calm her down.

The bed was empty, cold. How many days had passed since Tara had been murdered? Since Juice had disappeared? Since that day, her father had been shutting her out, refusing to tell her anything that was going on with the club. She had no idea how much time had passed – everything seemed to be going by in a daze and all she could do, was stare out the front window, waiting.

Abigail knew what had happened. She wasn't stupid; she had enough experience with the club to know that Juice had done something stupid. Maybe he had ratted. Again. It made her furious; at the club, at Juice, at her father but mostly at herself. She had known he was struggling with something, but she had accepted his silence. Whatever he had done – she believed that it had been an act of despair, just like last time. He loved the club – more than he loved anything, probably even her. He would never want to hurt his brothers, someone must have forced him into a corner, and his anxiety had taken control of his mind.

She curled up into a little ball, pulling the blanket over her shoulder. Where was he now? Was he alone? She knew he hated being alone. Why did he have to hide from her? Didn't he trust her? Last time she had kept his secret and they hadn't been as long together as they were now.

Suddenly a hand stroked her hair. Immediately she sat up straight, opening her eyes. "Juice?!"

Disappointed, she looked into Scarlett's face.

"It's me, honey. Sorry."

With shoulders slumped, she sighed deeply. Her friend wrapped her arms around her and pulled her close.

"I guess you haven't found him?"

"No, I didn't. But that's a good thing, right? It means they won't find him either."

Abigail pulled up her knees, wrapping her arms around them. "What if I never see him again? If he just... disappears?" She blinked away her tears. "I would have gone with him. Why did he want to do this alone?"

"You know why. He would never want you to live like a fugitive, or for you to have to betray your father."

Abigail stared at the blanket. Betraying her father. She would have done it – and she didn't even feel guilty about it. She had never came first to him, the club had always been more important. This time it wouldn't be any different. If he found Juice, he would agree with his fate, despite the fact that it would destroy her.

"Come, lay down." Scarlett compelled, pushing her back into the bed, her arms still wrapped around Abigail. The girl turned her on her side, being the big spoon. Right above the neck of her nightdress, the woman pressed a kiss. "I stay with you, I'll keep the nightmares away."

Sniffling, Abigail breathed in. Feeling those arms around her only made her miss Juice more. Still Scarlett had a calming influence on her, especially when she started to sing softly, petting Abigail's black hair. Her eyelids suddenly felt heavy, as she sunk into a deep sleep.

Without nightmares, like Scarlett had promised her.

* * *

When she woke up again, she was still in her friend's embrace. Quietly she freed herself from Scarlett's arms, but the slight movement disturbed Scarlett's sleep. She sat up straight, a friendly smile crossing her lips. Even though Abigail still felt tired, her friend looked as energetic as always. Her blue eyes were alert, her almost white curls looked to be in perfect shape.

"How did you sleep?" Scarlett asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. "Okay, I guess."

"You see? I told you I would keep away the nightmares." She cupped Abigail's jaw with her hand. Even though she had just been under a blanket, her hand felt ice cold. Although they had known each other for years, she had never gotten used to those cold hands. "And let me tell you this too: don't worry about Juice. He'll be all right."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I just know certain things." She gave her a wink. "I know this is hard for you, but you'll get through this. One day you will hold him in your arms again. I promise you – and you know I never break a promise."

Scarlett was looking so intensely at her that she blushed a bit. She didn't dare to doubt her words.

But when she received a message a few days later, telling her that the Mayans had Juice and were handing him over to the Sons, all hope died.


	4. Chapter 4

Abigail's sight was blurred with tears as she entered the clubhouse. The whispers died away as she neared the men, who were all sitting in front of the bar. She could feel their pitiful looks, their conflicting feelings because they all knew they were going to crush her heart – and still there was not even the slightest shred of remorse in their eyes. Not even in those of her father.

"Where is he?" she whispered.

Her father turned away from his brothers, leading her to Juice's old room.

_As if I couldn't have found that myself._

"Usually we would never do this," he sighed. "But we give you two one hour together. Then the cops will pick him up." Kissing her cheek, he raked a hand through her hair. "I love you, Abby. We all do. I really wish there was another way."

The cops would pick him up... Abigail had the feeling that she couldn't breathe. He would go to jail. All those nightmares that had plagued her for years, they would finally come true.

Unless she did the unforgivable.

Turning her back to the club who had raised her, to save the love of her life a lot of pain. She knew she could do it – because she knew what the other outcome would be. Turning away from her father, she opened the door and slipped into Juice's dorm. Memories invaded her, of all the times she had sneaked into this room when they had just fallen in love with each other.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, bent over, his elbows resting on his knees, his face buried in his hands. The sight of his hopelessness sent shivers down her spine.

As she closed the door, he looked up. "Abigail..." he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheeks. "I didn't... I didn't know if you'd want to see me."

Abigail chewed her bottom lip, not willing to give in to her tears. She didn't want to spend their last hour together crying. "Of course I do, Juan. Ever since you left, seeing you again was all I could think of."

He bent his head. "But not like this, I imagine."

Sighing, she sat down next to him and pulled him in his arms. She shivered as she took in his scent, finally feeling his arms around her again. "I missed you. I missed you so much."

"I know." His voice trembled. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I messed everything up. It was just..."

"Ssh." She laid her finger against his lips. "I don't wanna know. We have so little time. Please, love me. Love me one last time."

His eyes hold her glance. She saw the fear, the panic. Just like her, he knew what was going to happen.

"One more good memory," she whispered. "To which we can hold on to, whatever happens."

She took off her shirt, her pants and crawled on the bed. A bit hesitantly he undressed himself as well.

They gave each other shaky kisses, their fingers trembling as they caressed their bodies for the last time. Their tears mixed, their heavy breathing brushing each other's lips. They didn't look away for a single moment as they became one. Slowly their love loosened the strong grasp of fear.

"I love you, Juan," she said as he slowly filled her. "Whatever you have done, whatever you will do – I love you until the end of times."

His fingers cramped around her face, tears brimming in his eyes again. "I don't deserve you."

"We never get what we deserve, do we? I never regretted being with you and I will never do."

Her breathing faltered as he completely filled her, looking deeply in her eyes. "I love you, Abigail. If I could live this life again, I would change every second of it, except every moment I shared with you."

Sobbing, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight as they continued their lovemaking until their sad smiles were a last sign of the deep love they felt for each other.

"Let me kill you," she whispered as she was lying on top of him a little later, their sweated bodies sticking together. "Let me kill you, baby."

He looked up, confusion in his eyes. "What?"

A lump appeared in her throat. "Let me save you from the horrors that are awaiting you."

He stared her in the eye, his face turning pale.

"You still believe those nightmares are just the figments of a sick mind?"

"I never said that, baby. I just..." He dropped his eyes. "I just... need to believe there's another way out."

"There isn't," she said with quivering lips, caressing his cheek. "I finally understand why those visions plagued me for so long. So you can die in my arms."

He squeezed his eyes, a few tears slipping through his eyelashes. "I can't baby. I can't go out like that. Not like a coward. I did horrible things, I betrayed my brothers – I need to do them one last favor. I need to come clean with myself."

"No," she whispered, burying her face against his chest. "They've kicked you out. They send you in without protection. You will – you will..."

"I know baby." He lifted her face and kissed her forehead. "But I don't want to betray them again. It's too late to make the right choice – but I will still do it. This time I want to be strong."

"You were always strong, Juan," she whispered before giving him a long, last kiss. "You just have a heart that is too kind for this life and the fact that you never let it grow cold makes you the strongest of them all."   


	5. Chapter 5

There was nothing anymore – not even pain. He stared at the bars, not even knowing if someone was really raping him right now or that it were the countless memories that refused to leave his mind. It felt like his soul had started to free itself from his body, leaving him numb, leaving him cold.

He just wanted to be done with it. Done with this life. His life.

He had done what his brothers had asked, he had told Jax the truth about Tara and Gemma. The thought that all his brothers hated him and wished him this fate, had crushed his heart. The little pieces that had been left of it, after Abigail's final kiss.

Abigail...

The thought of her was the only thing that kept him sane – at times. He had carved her smile into his memory, her soft touches, her whispered words. He however knew his days were counted. He longed for his end, but at the same time he feared the influence that it would have on Abigail. Or would she be glad that his suffering was over, that he had found peace? If he would find peace... He didn't even bother to pray anymore, he knew his sins were unforgivable. He hoped there wasn't even a god, he just wanted silence, the eternal void.

Suddenly he felt fingers gliding across his scalp. He tensed, knowing the man's whispers would follow soon, reading his sick love poems.

"Juice..."

It wasn't Tully's voice. It was a woman who was sitting next to him, a woman he knew. Dazed, he sat up straight. The moment he saw Scarlett's pale face, he knew that it wasn't real. It was a dream, or a hallucination. It was impossible that she was here. But why was she the one comforting him? Did it mean that Abigail was letting go of him, that she had made peace with her forthcoming loss? He loved her, with all of his heart. Maybe one could feel when his soulmate was slipping away.

"Hey, look at me."

Scarlett's fingers touched his cheek. Again he tensed – every touch freaked him out. He never wanted to be touched again, by no one. Not after what had happened to him since he was here.

"I promised Abigail that I would save you."

"Save me?" he repeated, his throat feeling sore. "There's nothing left to save."

"Your love. For her."

He bowed his head.

A hand pressed against his chest, pushing him down on the bed. The girl leaned over him, her cold lips gliding down his neck. Juice tried to push her away, even though he knew this wasn't real. Nevertheless it felt like he was cheating, the fact that he didn't desire her didn't change that.

Suddenly the smell of roses surrounded him. Scarlett held his glance, her irises became flaming red. His breathing faltered.

"Let me care for you, Juice," she whispered. "Let me give you everything, before you lose it all."

It was like her eyes had petrified him, he couldn't move anymore. His breathing fell heavier as her lips traveled down his neck again. He wanted to raise protests, reminding her that Abigail was her best friend, but his tongue was paralyzed.

Suddenly there was a sharp sting in the crook of his neck. Was she – was she  _biting_ him? Things became even weirder when she started to suck his skin. Instead of blood leaving his body, it felt like something was streaming  _inside_ his body. It spread through his veins, awakened his limbs again. He wanted to sit up straight, but her hand forced him down and she turned out to be unbelievably strong.

As she moved away her face from his neck, blood was trickling down her chin. With a swift movement, her tongue swiped it away. Her eyes were still red as ruby's, sending shivers through his body.

His jaw dropped down. He didn't even know what to say.

And why would he say anything? This was just the weirdest dream he had ever had.

Scarlett's fingers stroked his cheek. "One more day. One more day and all this will be over." She kissed his forehead and stood up. "Stay strong. You're a good man. Dead will not be the end." She gave him a mysterious smile. "Not for you."

Then she spun around. Within the blink of an eye, she was gone.

No, not gone. His eye caught a glimpse of a bat, before it disappeared in the shadows.

Juice stared forward, his hand reaching for the wound in his neck. His fingertips touched a smooth skin, but he could still feel the pain, as if only the outer skin had healed.

Then he shook his head and laid down again, disappointment filling his heart. It felt so real... he wished Abigail had been here, instead of her scary friend. If he looked deep into his heart, he had to admit that she had always given him the creeps. But why she was the one that his messed up head had called to his cell, was a mystery.


	6. Chapter 6

"Just one last time, sweetheart..."

There were tears in her eyes, but she was still smiling. Her hands were pulling on his pants – and they were rougher than they used to be.

"Come on honey, just a little more love before I'll let you go. Go up on your knees, I don't want to remember you as a corpse."

With those words, the image of Abigail faded. Jolting, he returned to his dark reality. Crawling away, he glared at his cell mate, hatred churning his insides.

"Just finish it," he said. Just a few hours ago he had asked the man to end his life today, like Jax had told him to do, like Abigail's dream had foreseen. He had given him the shive with which the Chinese had wanted him to kill the black haired man, but he knew he would only suffer more if he laid his life in their hands.

"At lunch. Come on, be a good boy. I'll be quick, now and later today."

Juice didn't even know why he was raising protests. This morning wasn't different than any other day. Trying to get away from it, would get him nowhere. Maybe Tully would even keep him a little longer in life, to satisfy his needs.

Swallowing, he closed his eyes and sat down on all fours.

 _This is nothing new,_  he told himself.  _It's over after this. Forever._

It didn't help – when the man's dick was pushed inside him, all his muscles ached. With all his willpower he tried to detach his mind from his body, trying to get lost in memories about Abigail. He tried to picture her loving eyes, her innocent smile – but all he could see where her panicking eyes after a nightmare; her sobs, the desperate way she held him whenever she had dreamed of exactly this moment.

_Let me kill you._

Oh, how he wished he had granted her wish. Taking care of the club's business in prison had left him indifferent. The abandonment – the rapes... it hadn't been worth their last respects. He should have listened to her, he should have died in her arms, in the bed in which they had made love so many times, instead of on the cold prison floor, his rapist as his only company.

With a grunt, his cell mate spilled his semen in his ass after a few painful thrusts, dragging him out of his thoughts again.

Juice said nothing as he clothed himself, nor did he look at the man. Lunch couldn't come quick enough.

* * *

Once again his thumb stroked his neck. There was an annoying sensation there; it hurt and itched at the same time, but all he felt was his smooth skin. He thought back about tonight's dream. It had been weird – there however was no way the two things could have been connected. With an uneasy feeling he thought about Scarlett, and from her his thoughts automatically turned to Abigail. Had he been right? Was she really letting him go? He should be glad about it, but it hurt. Her mind was probably the only one carrying good memories about him.

Would he call her? Hear her voice one last time? Would it hurt her more, or would it give her peace, knowing that his suffering was over? Would she be relieved to know that she had given him strength? He hadn't called anyone since he was here, he assumed he had a right on it.

Fifteen minutes later he was pressing the phone against his ear. His heart bounced heavily in his chest. Would she pick up? What if –

A click sounded, followed by her name.

Although her voice sounded monotone, it was the best thing he had heard since he was here. Before he knew it, tears were running down his cheeks.

"Juice?" she whispered as she heard his sobs. "Is that you?"

His heart ached as he heard both the despair and the hope in her voice.

"I'm scared."

Internally cursing, he closed his eyes. Of all the things that raced through his head, this was the thought he said out loud? He had wanted to give her peace – now he was doing the opposite.

"Don't be scared," she answered, her voice more stable than his. She was so strong – she had always been so strong... "You have a good heart. God knows that."

"I – I don't think there's a god anymore," he muttered, wiping his eyes.

"There is. And He loves you. He wants you to come home, so you can wait for me."

Leaning against the wall, he closed his eyes, trying to stop the tears. "I love you," he muttered. "Never – never forget that."

"Of course not." There was a short silence. Juice swallowed – he didn't want this call to end. "I'm pregnant, Juice."

The phone dropped out of his hand. It bounced up and down the cord, and clumsily he picked it up. "W-what?" he stammered, feeling a new tightness in his chest.

"Your goodbye gift, that morning before you went in," she said quietly.

"Oh god..." He grabbed his head, feeling dizzy. "And you will be all alone..."

"I'm fine," she assured him. "I'm raised by one parent, I will be fine. It's... it's a great gift, a last consolation. You will be with me, Juice. Every day of my life. He or she will be your legacy and I will talk its ears off about you. I will tell everything to our little one – how I found you, with your knees up in shit and toilet paper..." She laughed softly – a sad laugh, but he knew she was smiling.

"Up to my ankles," he corrected her, feeling his own lips curling up at the memory. His fingers ran across his scalp and rested upon the ink that was there because of her. "Just don't tell him about the way I tried to get you in bed."

She chuckled. "I'm sure it will be a good lesson."

He smiled too, wiping a few tears from his cheeks. The smile however died when the guard signalled that his time was up. He nodded and took a deep breath.

"I gotta go," he said quietly. "Just know that you're the best thing that ever happened to me. I love you – you and that little one growing inside you."

He wanted to say so much more; but his throat was just blocked with grief.

"Don't be scared," she said. "The worst is over. I love you, Juice. I will always love you and I will learn our child what a great father you would have been."

"Thank you," he whispered. "Thank you for loving me. For being there for me when everyone else has cast me out."

"Loving you has always been easy." He heard that she was crying again, and helplessly he clung to the phone. "Goodbye, my love. I'm proud of you. The little one and I will always be proud of you."

After these words, the line went dead. 

And just a few hours later, the line wasn't the only thing that had died. 

* * *

**Hey all! I've decided to write a prequel for this story because I'd like to share the coming together of Juice and Abigail with you, but I don't want to fill this story with flashbacks. In case anyone's interested: it's called "Taste of Innocence" (:**


	7. Chapter 7

Abigail sat in front of the toilet, throwing up her stomach contents.

Not for the reason that she had wanted to do that, however. Contrary to what she had told Juice, she wasn't pregnant. Every hour since their last intimacy she had begged God to give her a child, a lasting memory of the man she loved with every fiber of her being. A means to ease her pain, to ease his pain.

Three days ago that dream had shattered when her period started. She would never carry his child. Her last words to him had been lies and empty promises. Shatters of her broken dreams. She however felt no remorse. He was gone now; he would never know. The reason that she was feeling so sick, that her whole body was shaken up. She knew how badly he had wanted to start a family with her, once things within the club had settled down. It had been his dream – their dream, and she had wanted to give him that illusion, that spark of happiness during those last hours of his life.

Abigail wiped her eyes. Her throat felt sore, her eyes puffy because of all the tears she had shed. Her legs felt weak, but she knew that she had to man up. There were so many arrangements to make. She had to call his mother and sister, had to pick a coffin, a headstone. Later there would be plenty of time to cry – now she wanted to give him the farewell that he deserved, even when there would only be a few people willing to leave a flower at his grave.

Gathering her strength, she stood up and went downstairs. In silence she carried out her tasks, until the rambling of a bike dragged her out of her thoughts.  _Juice!_ Even though he hadn't lived in this house the past months, it was still the first thought crossing her mind. It would stay that way for a long time, she knew, feeding her pain again and again. For he was gone. For good.

Although she didn't want to see her father, she walked to the front door. She knew what he was going to tell her and he wouldn't leave before he had spoken to her.

As she opened the door, she watched him in silence. He looked tired, his face bleak, bags under his eyes.

"Oh my love..." he sighed sadly as he saw her. "I'm so sorry. We just got a call – "

"I know," she said softly. "I know he's gone. He called me, a couple hours ago."

Chibs sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Com'ere," he said, holding out his arm.

Abigail stepped back, shaking her head. "Just be there at his funeral."

"Abby..."

"Be there!" she snapped, grabbing the door knob. "He's dead! He's dead because of your stupid club! If you love me, even if it's just a little bit, you will be there for me. As my father and not some cold-heart biker asshole!" Tears slipped her eyes, brusque she wiped them away. "I'm leaving Charming after the funeral. If you don't show up, I'll never return. Every single one of you who doesn't pay their respects, will be torn out of my heart for good." Taking a deep breath, she looked at him. "He is gone, but I'm not. I need you there. You. My friends. My family. At least if there's still something left of that those days."

Before he could say anything, she slammed the door. The blow echoed through the empty house. With her back against the door she glided down until she was sitting on the floor. The pain defeated the anger, she started to sob again. More than ever she longed for his strong arms. She would never feel them around her again. Never.

A freezing cold crept inside her.

He was gone.

"I don't know how to move on without you," she whispered, burying her face in her hands. "I don't want to. I want you here baby. I just want you here." Her cries drowned out her whispers and she kept sitting there, all alone. The strength that had kept her going ever since he went missing, was gone.

She was broken and bruised and she doubted anyone could ever heal her again.


	8. Chapter 8

There was a horrible cold – biting his skin, sticking pins in his longs, withering his heart. His limbs felt heavy, broken and bruised like he had been hit by a freight train. Juice tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids seemed to be frozen. What the hell was going on? Where was he? The last thing he remembered, was being in jail. He'd been stabbed in the neck – had he somehow survived? Fear cut off his breath – was he paralyzed? In a coma? He couldn't think of a greater horror, what if he never got out? If he was trapped in his body?

His breathing sped up, causing stabs in his lungs. Damn – what the fuck had happened to him?!

With more effort he tried to budge. Very slowly he managed to move his stiff fingers. It filled him with relief – he wasn't paralyzed – and it gave him enough strength to lift his head. Finally he could open his eyes – or so he thought, for he saw nothing but darkness. It was a deeper darkness than that of his eyelids, so he assumed that he was in a dark room.

While energy was flowing to the rest of his body he concentrated on his surroundings. He had expected beeping machines or the whispering voices of nurses, but it was dead silent around him. Although his limbs still felt like they were made of ice, he felt stronger than a few minutes ago. Trying to sit up straight, he bumped his head after a few inches. Wherever he was lying in, it was small. For a moment the fear that he was locked up in a coffin spread through his veins, then he shook his head about his own stupidity. The material above him was made of metal instead of wood. As he slipped his fingers across it, he felt something move. A few seconds later he figured that he was lying in some kind of drawer and he managed to shove himself out of it, until he could sit up straight.

The room was dark. He smelled something chemical. It was still freezing cold, so he started to wonder if someone had locked him up in a freezer. As he climbed down, grunting because it felt like all his bones had been turned upside down, he felt his eyes sting. Squeezing them to get rid off the pain, he discovered that his sight was improving, every time he blinked. For some reason he no longer needed light, he could see that he was in a rectangular room with these weird drawers. There were three tables too, covered with a blanket.

"What the fuck," he muttered as he realized that he was naked.

It wasn't the first time he woke up in a weird place – and not even the first time he found himself naked, but he lacked the headache that was so typical for a hangover. He bent his head and looked down at his pale skin. There were scars across various parts of his body, as if someone had cut him open. Thoughtfully his fingers followed the scar tissue, trying to remember how and when this had happened.

Suddenly the door opened. On a reflex Juice shoved behind one of the tables and pulled the blanket away to cover his nakedness. As the blanket revealed a corpse he stumbled backwards, forgetting about the person entering the room.

"Holy shit," he stammered, staring at the pale body, the stiff limbs. "Holy fucking shit."

In panic he looked around – suddenly he realized where he was.

In a morgue. In a fucking morgue.

"Good to see you alive and breathing," a female voice sounded.

Juice looked up and stumbled backwards as he recognized Scarlett. His head was spinning – what the hell was he doing here? What the hell was  _she_ doing here? Why was he naked? Had they – done it, here? For some reason he could imagine that Scarlett thought that having sex in a morgue was hot, but he absolutely didn't.

"Did... did we fuck?" he blurted out. Somehow that felt like the most prominent question.

She started to laugh. "Not yet."

As she stepped closer, he stepped back. For some reason she was totally freaking him out.

"What am I doing here? What are  _you_ doing here?!" he stammered, still pressing the blanket against his body.

"You died," she told him.

There was no mocking tone, no teasing tone... It felt like she was dead serious.

"W-what?"

"You died," she repeated. "And I already told you  dead wouldn't be the end for you." A dark smile crossed her lips. "Oh no baby, this is just the beginning." 


	9. Chapter 9

He was trapped in a nightmare – that was the only explanation for this madness. Or maybe he had finally lost his mind, had he created another reality while he was actually still in his cell. Those theories at least helped him to look at the situation a bit more cynically, keeping the panic at bay. Being naked in a morgue was still better than being naked in a cell with a disgusting inmate, he reasoned.

"So... what am I now? A zombie?" He let out a sarcastic laugh. It sounded hollow – it felt like a lifetime ago that he had laughed. "Or wait..." His fingers touched his neck, remembering another weird dream. "I'm a fucking vampire now?"

"Well, not a fucking one yet," Scarlett answered with a grin. "Most people refer to us as vampires indeed, although we are much more. I'll explain everything to you, but in its own time. It will be a lot for you to take in. First we need to get out of this building."

She turned towards the door. Juice wasn't sure if he wanted to follow her, but this place was freaking him out anyway.

"You uh, you got clothes for me?"

"When we're home."

"Home?" he asked, his voice shaky. "You mean, we'll go to Abigail?"

Suddenly he no longer cared whether this was all in his head or not – holding her in his arms was the only thing he wanted right now.

"No, not yet. You have to control your powers before you can see her again."

"P-powers?" he repeated, cringing as he heard how stupid he sounded.

"Yes, powers," she said, without looking over her shoulder as she walked through the dark hallway. She went through another door, where after they entered the lobby. There she turned around and handed him a golden coin ring, with a red gem in the middle. "This is yours. It allows you to transport to our base – wherever you are. With your current abilities you can only return to the last place you've been, so you better don't chose places where your presence raises questions." She gave him a wink.

Juice just stared at her. Thousands of questions were racing through his mind, but not one slipped his lips. He was just completely overwhelmed. As if his hands were acting without his guidance, he shoved the ring around his left thumb.

"Press your other thumb against the gem," she ordered him.

He did as she told him.

A moment later it felt like lightening was hitting him. His whole body was jolting, the pain even reached the furthest corners; his fingertips, his toes – but before he could scream, he found himself on the ground, on his knees, heavily panting.

Almost lovingly, Scarlett's fingers stroked his scalp. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

Juice clenched his teeth. He didn't  _want_ to get used to anything. He just wanted to wake up, wanted the ending that was promised him. Without all this crazy stuff.

"Come on. I'll take you to your room and there I will answer some of your questions."

Juice didn't say anything. He looked around; they were in a hallway made of stone – like that of a castle. Torches were hanging from the walls, but for some reason they spread no heat. He stood up from the cold cobblestone that was way too even to be a practical floor and followed Scarlett, afraid he would end up alone in this creepy castle otherwise.

Juice felt tired when she finally opened a door. It was a room that seemed to hail from the Victorian era; complete with a canopy bed, furniture with curved legs, lots of golden knick-knacks and an enormous chandelier.

Over a chair clothes were draped – weird ones, with a frock coat and trousers that were fashionable in the 19th century. He saw even a walking stick and a top hat.

"What is this? Some fucking Halloween party?"

Scarlett chuckled, laying a hand against his cheek. "From now on it's every day Halloween for you, baby."

Juice stared at the girl, who seemed to fit perfectly in this place. He had always found her a weird one, with her strange taste in clothing, old-fashioned hairstyle and her profession as assassin, but it slowly started to make sense now.

A bit clumsily he clothed himself in the costume, his limbs and fingers were still stiff. After that, he sat down at the table, looking expectantly at his girlfriend's best friend. His head felt heavy and there were sharp stabs in the back of it, making it hard to keep his thoughts straight.

"So... you bit me?" he stated after a long silence in which Scarlett had thoroughly studied his face. Although he still believed none of this took really place, he doubted he could convince the woman of that. "Why?"

"Later, Juice. How do you feel?"

"Tired. Stiff. But above all very confused."

She nodded slowly. "Your body needs time to recover. The human way takes very long and is painful, we have our own ways to keep our energy and powers up."

"Drinking blood?" he guessed. "Cause I really ain't gonna do that."

"Drinking blood or having sex with your mother."

Juice choked on his saliva and coughed. "Excuse me?!"

"Not your birth mother," she smirked. "Your spiritual one. Your creator."

"You mean you."

She shrugged innocently.

"No way. I'm not going to fuck you. Not anyone but Abigail."

"Don't expect to sleep with her ever again. You wouldn't be the first one accidentally killing his lover, and Abigail is way too precious."

"Does she know? What you are?"

Scarlett shook her head. "No. She has no idea what I am, she doesn't even know what creature she is herself."

Juice squeezed his eyes for a moment, all the information started to make him feel dizzy. "You mean she's not human either?"

"She is – but she's more. We call her a Moonchild. Her pure soul is keeping the balance between good and evil in this world."

"Right." Juice massaged his temples. All this started to sound like a poorly written movie script.

"We call ourselves Darklings. Hundreds of years ago our people split: one part chose the Darkness, the others – we – swore an oath to the Light. Embracing our sinister nature, we use our powers to protect the Moonchildren – people like Abigail."

Juice sighed, it was all too much to understand. "So why did you make me a vampire?"

"Because it was meant to be. Because you are her soulmate, her protector. If I hadn't bound your soul to mine, the Soulless would have used you after your death. You would have been her demise. The Soulless lack a soul to bind someone to them, so they needed to wait until you were dead before they could take control of you – and by then you were already mine."

"I'm not yours," he growled.

"Yes you are. I am your guide, you are my pupil. Abigail had already foreseen that in her dreams – if she hadn't shared her visions with me, I never could have saved you. The Soulless have recruited their own pupil. You should know that the Soulless can't harm Moonchildren, the moment they touch their skin they will catch fire, unless the person in question has no reason to fear the other. That's why they were waiting for your death: you would have been able to get close to her, you could have manipulated her in a way that she would sacrifice herself for the greater good."

"I would never had done that."

"You would have lost your soul. Your love for her would have died – all you would feel is an unstoppable blood lust – preferable the blood of a pure soul."

A shiver crept down his spine. That sounded even worse than his current condition. "And you say they have found someone like that? Someone she trusted... someone who... came back from the death and who's now... pure evil?"

Slowly, Scarlett nodded.

Juice's stomach cringed, suddenly he felt sick.

He knew about who she was talking; one of her best friends.

_Opie._


	10. Chapter 10

Even after Juice's passing the world around her kept crumbling down. Death had claimed Charming – it had done that a long time ago, but this time its blood lust was unstoppable. That it had been SAMCRO who had lured all evil to this place, was proven by the fact that more people had died those last days. Bobby. Gemma. Unser. All ties were cut off.

All the more reason to leave this place. Nobody tried to stop her – there was just nobody left to care about her. Almost nobody. 

Her father put two boxes on top of each other to create more space in the living room and briefly looked at her. He wanted her to leave too, he wanted her far away from this place. Even though she wanted to leave as well, it hurt. She wished that he had wanted to keep her close, that he admitted that he needed her but he pushed her away like he had pushed away his other daughter.

"Ye sure ye wanna pack all this shite today?" he asked.

Abigail shrugged. "We'll see how far we get."

She wanted to stay busy, if not she would be buried under pain again. In three hour she would pick up Juice's sister and mother from the airport and she wanted to be strong for the two women. She had met his sister only once; his mother she had never seen at all. Juice had always been too afraid to reach out to her, too ashamed for what he had done. Many times she had told him that a mother's love was infinite, but she had never been able to convince him. And now it was too late.

"I'll go to the bedroom," she muttered.

Being around her father was still hard; she couldn't help blaming him for Juice's dead. He had failed as a brother, they all had, by pushing Juice to the edge until he had fallen down. However, tolerating her father's presence was still better than being alone, being remembered to all the friends she had lost. Oh, how she craved for a hug from Opie, or a pep talk from Gem. But they were gone – they all were. It was only a matter of time before her father met the same fate and it was better if she already tried to make peace with the inevitable.

Carrying an empty box to the bedroom, she opened one of the drawers next to Juice's side of the bed. She took out the car magazines and comics he used to read when she was absorbed in a book and put them carefully in the box. All his stuff would go with her; she would sort it out later. She closed the drawer again and frowned as she heard something move. She opened it again and moved her hand to the farthest corner where her fingers stumbled upon a small, velvet box. She pulled back her arm. A shiver crept down her spine as she stared at the jewelry box in her hand.

"Oh God..." she whispered. Her legs were shaking and she flopped down on the bed. Even before she opened the box, tears were streaming down her cheeks. Could it really be?

Sobs escaped her lips as she saw the elegant ring; there was a split shank and a silver halo around countless little diamonds, brought together in the form of a rose, showing clear similarities with the tattoo on her shoulder.

"Oh Juice..." she whispered. "I had no idea..."

Closing her eyes, she tried to control her breathing. It was impossible. Bending over she allowed the tears, she cried and cried, feeling so lost she just wished the tears would drown her.

It didn't take long before her father caught her sobs. Footsteps came closer and he sat down next to her, pulling her in his arms. This time she didn't push him away; she had a feeling she would just collapse if nobody held her.

"He – he wanted to propose me," she sobbed. "He wanted to marry me."

"I'm sorry my love," her father said, rocking her in his arms. "He loved ye. He..."

His phone interrupted him. Sighing, he took the call.

"Aye?" He was silent for a while, after which he let out another sigh. "Got it." He tucked the phone away. "I'm sorry lass." He rubbed her back. "Gotta go now."

"Of course you do," she said embittered. "Your club shit is undoubtedly more important than your mourning daughter."

"Abby..." he sighed. "Ye know tha's not true. I'll be back as soon as I can. It's just... the club is thinned out."

"Well maybe it's time to shut the place down," she answered coldly.

"It's our life."

"It's no life! Everyone dies! Damn, are you blind?!"

He stood up, shaking his head. "I'm sorry Abby. I wouldn't leave if it wasn't important. Jax went M.I.A. The longer we wait, the harder it is to pick up his trail."

"Don't waste your time," she huffed. "He's just the next in line to meet the Reaper. Maybe you should already arrange your own funeral, cause I can't do it again."

She bent her head, her thumb stroking the diamonds in the ring. Her father left in silence, his boots landing heavy on the floor. Her hand was shaking as she shoved the jewel around her finger.

There was no one to show it to, no one to tell.

She was alone.

Not even Scarlett was around to offer her a shoulder to cry on.


	11. Chapter 11

It wasn't long after her father had left that someone rang the bell. Quickly she wiped a few tears away, even though her puffy eyes gave away that she had cried. Since Scarlett had a habit of entering her apartment without announcing her arrival, she assumed that it was someone else; maybe some neighbor who had heard that her boyfriend had died and wanted to offer his or her condolences.

As she opened the door, she was surprised by Venus' innocent eyes. "Hey sweetheart." She briefly glanced at Abigail's face; then she spread her arms. "Come here..."

Although she wished she was done crying for the day, she felt her lips tremble and took the offer, longing for a comforting embrace.

Soothingly, Venus rubbed her shoulder blades. "I'm so sorry baby. Juice was such a sweet boy. Alexander is devastated, although he tries to hide it."

"He is?" she asked surprised.

"Yes, too many of his friends have lost their lives those days. I think he always had a soft spot for Juice – who wouldn't? Because of the mistakes he has made himself, he has a more forgiving heart than some of the others. He however saves his pain for me; he is too afraid to step on someone's toes by mourning a brother who they consider as a rat."

Abigail pressed her lips together, holding the woman a little tighter. Once it had been love that had defined the club, but that was long gone. There was no room for mistakes, for forgiveness, for trust... The brotherhood that had made them all so proud once, was completely broken. All that was left, was a group of embittered men who desperately tried to hold on to the shatters of a broken dream, pretending things were still the same as years ago.

"Thank you," she whispered. Knowing that at least one of the Sons mourned for Juice, really did something to her. "For paying me a visit and for telling me this."

She knew Tig had done some unspeakable things in the past and that Jax was keeping him on a leash like he had done with Juice, which reminded her of the fact that they had been in the same boat. Even though he was still alive and a member, she knew Jax would keep pushing him until he lost it. By now she knew that Jax had forced Juice to murder an innocent girl, knowing fully well that he could never handle such a thing, and that Juice had broken down when Nero had interrogated him as to what had happened to the girl, being aware of his vulnerability.

"Don't thank me, dear. I wish I could do more for you than just giving you a hug. When your father showed up in the clubhouse, I just knew you shouldn't be alone right now."

Abigail showed her a watery smile. "It's a mess inside, but do you wanna come in?"

"Sure. I live with Alexander, I have a little bit of experience with messy homes," she winked.

Abigail led her to the living room and got the both of them a glass of water. Tig was dating the woman for a few months now, but her kindness kept surprising her. She really had a heart of gold.

"That's a beautiful ring you got there, sweetheart." Venus smiled as she took the glass from Abigail.

The corners of her lips curled up. "I found it in his drawer an hour ago, when I was packing our stuff." Again the tears were itching in her eyes. "I still can't believe he's gone," she whispered. "That he will never see me wearing this ring. The promise of his love."

Venus raked a hand through Abigail's hair and kissed her forehead. "True love is eternal, baby. I believe that he's somewhere looking down at you, with a proud smile on his face because you have answered his deepest desire by wearing that ring."

Abigail leaned with her head against the woman's shoulder, wishing it was true.

But maybe it was. Who could tell.

"I should go," she said. "I'm sorry. I have to pick up his sister and mother from the airport. The viewing is tonight."

"You're not in a condition to drive. Let me take you there, doll."

Abigail's first instinct was to dismiss the offer, but she also realized that she might be too emotional for a long drive, not to mention that the prospect to meet Juice's mother under these circumstances was causing a knot of nerves in her stomach that she could barely handle.

"Okay," she nodded. "Thanks, again."

"And again; no need to thank me." The woman squeezed her hand and stood up. "It's the least I can do."


	12. Chapter 12

Fingers glided along his scalp. Immediately he shot up right, crawling to the corner of the bed. His heart was slamming in his chest, his eyes wide, the blankets clutched to his upper body.

"Relax baby. I'm not going to rape you."

His breathing became a little calmer as he realized that he wasn't in his cell anymore, even though he still didn't know what to think of the new situation.

"You can read my thoughts now too?" he asked, lowering the blankets.

"I'm more than two hundred years old. I've got some people skills."

 _Two hundred years..._ Sighing, he rubbed his tired eyes, not knowing what to feel. On the one hand he was grateful for the second chance; one day he would hold Abigail in his arms again, and he would meet his son or daughter. He was going to be a father – and at the same time he knew that he was a monster, bound to this crazy woman. "So what... are we immortal?"

"Nearly. As long as nobody pierces your heart with a wooden stake or simply rips it out of your chest, you'll be fine."

"And then what? Then I'm really dead?"

"Yes. But remember why I kept you alive. For Abigail. Don't try to kill yourself again or I'll bind your free will."

"Great," he grunted. "Can you let me sleep now? I'm exhausted."

"Sleep won't make you feel better. We don't need sleep."

He rolled his eyes.  _Of course not._ Bending his head, he was picking on his fingernails. "My nails are letting loose." Before his death that knowledge would have freaked him out, now it was just an observation. He glanced at her red painted fingernails. "I guess that's not supposed to happen? Or are those of yours fake?"

"Your body needs recovery. I already told you that. Otherwise things will become very unpleasant."

"Right. You wanted me to choose between fucking you and drinking someone else's blood. This is fucking wrong man!"

Scarlett shrugged. "It's all about survival."

"I'm a fucking vegetarian man! And now you want me to become a cannibal?"

"You only need the blood. But you can eat him too if you want. He'll be all yours."

Juice frowned. "What? What are you talking about?"

Scarlett stood up. "Follow me."

Sighing, Juice did what she asked. Taking little steps because he was feeling dizzy, he followed her, already getting out of breath after a few steps. "Not so quick," he muttered.

"You want a kiss? That will give you a boost."

"No!" he answered annoyed, reaching for the wall to support him. "Just walk slower."

They didn't speak as they made their way through the castle, descending more and more stairs until Juice had the feeling they were nearing the center of the earth. There however was a biting cold when he arrived in what turned out to be dungeons. 

Juice cursed. "What is this man? You keep people here?"

"Just one at the moment." She lifted the corner of her mouth. "Your little project."

She stood still in front of a cell. In the shadows he could distinguish a man with blonde hair, laying on his side against the furthest wall.

Suddenly his eyes widened and he stared dumbfounded at Scarlett. "Is that Jax?"

"The one and only."

"What the fuck is he doin' here?"

"He's yours. You'll get the most strength by drinking the blood of the people you hate."

"I don't hate him."

"Well you should, Juice," she said in a stern voice. "He treat you like shit. He failed as a president, he ruined the club, sent you to a prison where you were raped for days – and he  _knew_ that. How could you  _not_ hate him? He is the worst of them all, if he hadn't forced you to kill that girl none of this would have happened. He pushed you to edge, it was always his goal to ruin you."

Juice looked at the man again, who seemed to be unconscious. Something cold crept through his veins. For a moment he closed his eyes, remembering their grunting and moaning as they shoved themselves inside him, making him long for his death.

"Will he turn into a Darkling when I bite him?"

"He might – or he will die. But he will always be the submissive kind, he will always suffer, will always be weak. Only your female victims can grow into something powerful if you share your strength with them. You can control the others, but they'll be more like a slave than an apprentice."

Jax becoming his slave... now that shook up a darkness inside him he had never felt before.

Scarlett answered his dark glance with a smirk. "Only the thought of revenge is filling you with strength. Can you feel it? Imagine how powerful you will be if you dominate all the brothers that have turned their backs on you."

He held her glance. "All of 'em?"

Her lips curled into the most sinister smile he had ever seen. "Almost all of them. Hap will be mine. This time for eternity."


	13. Chapter 13

The ride from the airport to her apartment was the most awkward thing she had ever experienced. Alinde – Juice's mother – hadn't said much to her, and even with the knowledge that her son had died, she had managed to give Venus a disapproving look, clearly disappointed in Abigail for being friends with a transgender.

It hurt her that the woman asked her no questions. She was just staring out of the window, giving Abigail the impression that she was here only out of moral obligations. Elise, Juice's older sister was silent either, although tears were rolling down her cheeks. Her mother didn't seem to care; she made no effort to comfort her daughter.

There was a pit in her stomach. So many times she had encouraged Juice to reach out for his mother, to restore their relationship. He had been ashamed of robbing her when he was nineteen, but if Abigail had known the woman wouldn't shed a single tear at her son's funeral she would have encouraged him to hack into her account again and take all the money.

But maybe she was just trying to keep it all together. Maybe she would break, once she saw his body, once his coffin would disappear in the ground.

As they entered the apartment, the woman looked curiously around. She created the impression that she expected to see her son there, as if the fact that he was dead just didn't get through to her. Despite the woman's cool behavior, Venus stuck around and made four cups of tea.

"He died in jail, right?" Alinde asked. "I'm not surprised. I've always known he wouldn't grow old. He was always stepping boundaries, provoking all forms of authority."

"He was a good man," Abigail said in a stern voice, glaring at her. "I don't need to hear your bullshit. If you gonna talk shit about him, you better leave. This is my house and I won't tolerate any hurtful words about Juice."

"Juice?" The woman answered with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah, Juice. If you'd shown a little bit of interest in your son the past years, you would have known he called himself that way."

Alinde pressed her lips together. "He has always been the black sheep of our family. Have you any idea what it's like when your son is a criminal who refuses to turn his life around?"

"Have you any idea what it's like to be cast out by your own  _mother_?" she shot back. "The only person on earth who should love him unconditionally? You never gave him a stable environment to grow up in, it's partly due to your own shortcomings that he started a life of crime."

"Open your eyes, girl," the woman said, shaking her head. "Juan Carlos made his own choices. And he made bad ones. It's a shame that he dragged a pretty girl like you into his misery. If he had truly loved you, he would have turned his back to his criminal activities."

"He did love me," she snapped. "I know that! Now get the fuck out of my house!"

"I'm..."

"GO AWAY!" Furiously she clenched her hands to fist. "Get the fuck out before it's not only your son's funeral this week!" She stood up from the couch, her fists shaking, tears stinging her eyes.

It was Elise who grabbed her mother's arm and forced her to leave the apartment, casting Abigail an apologetic glance. Her sympathy didn't soften her; as soon as the door was closed Abigail tore open one of the boxes, took out the dinner ware and smashed it against the walls until she dropped on the ground, sobbing.

Venus sat down next to her and wrapped her arms around her, softly rocking her. "It's okay to be angry, sweetheart. Throw it all out."

"She's horrible," she sniffled. "How is it possible that she gave birth to such a wonderful man?"

"Sometimes those things happen."

Abigail swallowed, remembering that Venus had been sexually abused and forced into child porn by her own mother. "I'm sorry," she whispered, leaning against her friend. "If there's one thing I should have learned from your situation, it's that some mothers are monsters."

Venus petted her hair. "Luckily those mothers are a rarity. It's good that you gave her a chance, sweetie. You did all you could."

She sighed, wishing her own mother had been here. She couldn't remember a lot of her, but right now she just craved for the comforting embrace of a mother.

Or a father.

Or her best friend.

But it felt like they had all more important things to do than standing by her on this bitter day.

"I'm glad you're here, Venus," she whispered, blinking the tears out of her eyes. "I wouldn't know what I would have done if I was alone."

The woman kissed her forehead. "But you're not, sweetheart. You're not."


	14. Chapter 14

Abigail was surprised when she entered the building where Juice was laid out and found Scarlett close to the door. 

"I thought you would let me down again," she grunted. 

"Of course not, sweetie." She laid a hand against Abigail's cheek and gave her a worried look. "There were a few things I needed to take care of, but I knew Venus would keep you company." She showed the woman a smile. 

Abigail turned her head away from Scarlett. "There were also things I needed to take care of. I could have used your support with that."

It made her furious that even Scarlett had barely shown her face the past days. Maybe her relationship with Happy was over, but she still fitted perfectly among all those guys who ignored her because they all had better things to do. This however wasn't the time and place to give in to her anger, so she squared her shoulders and looked around to find Skeeter. She didn't see the undertaker. 

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe this was her chance to say her goodbyes with no ears listening in. She excused herself to her friends and walked to the adjacent room where she had been too many times the past months. Every time there had been that stinging feeling in her stomach; that fear that Juice would be the next. 

And now he was.

Abigail froze as she entered the serene room. Confused she stared at the closed coffin. Tears stung in her eyes; it felt like this last goodbye, this last chance to see him was  _also_ taken from her. She was tempted to lift the lid, but if his body wasn't prepped by an undertaker it would be a horrible sight that she would never be able to forget. 

She heard soft footsteps behind her. Assuming that it was Scarlett or Venus she turned around. A man who couldn't be older than 30 respectfully nodded to her. 

"Who the hell are you?" she blurted out. 

"I'm doing an internship here. Today I'm taking care of the viewing." He laid a hand on her shoulder and eyed her with a surprisingly warm look. His hair was dark and his face pale; he seemed to fit perfectly within an environment like this but his blue eyes weren't as cold as she somehow had expected. "I am sorry for your loss. You must be Abigail."

A little confused so looked at the other. His voice had sounded a little weird when he had said her name and she nodded a little absentminded. 

"I don't get it. Why isn't he laid out?" She stepped away from the man, pretending she wanted to take a closer look at the coffin. In reality however his hand on her shoulder was bothering her. His cold touch reminded her of Scarlett. 

"A closed coffin was the wish of the deceased, according to the report from prison."

 _The deceased..._ With a lump in her throat she placed her hand on the coffin, as if searching for the last traces of his warmth. She looked at the picture, to the shining smile he was showing off. 

Tears slipped between her eyelashes. Oh, she missed him so horribly... Her lips started to quiver and she could no longer push away her sadness. She folded her arms at the top of the coffin, burying her face against them. Her shoulders were shaking as the tears rolled down her cheeks. 

And all this time she felt the presence of the undertaker as if he was a burning fire. For a moment it was comforting, then it started to confuse her and she left the room in a hurry. On her way out, she caught a glimpse of his blue eyes. They were filled with tears. 

In the bathroom Abigail found a little peace. Although she knew she would cry a lot more today, she wiped the smudged mascara away and smoothed her black dress. After taking a few deep breaths, she went back inside. The first people trickled in. 

The first who gave her a squeezing hug was Lyla. She cried shamelessly, making her own eyes water again. 

A few weeks ago she had been in Abigail's shoes, when her husband had died, leaving her with his two kids. She knew the woman was going through a rough time, but at least she would see something of Opie in Kenny and Ellie. 

Abigail however was all alone. Juice would become nothing more than a memory. 


	15. Chapter 15

There was an echoing, rattling sound. Without knowing why, the hairs on his arms stood upright. Jax sat up a little straighter and stared in the direction of the noise. A shadow slowly walked back and forth. Something made of metal hit bar after bar. Although he had been in many difficult situations, his current condition was so unbelievably strange that he didn't know how to handle it. 

He didn't know how long he was held captive here, nor could he remember how he had ended up here in the first place. His memories seemed to blur; it was impossible to decide which were created by nightmares and what had really happened. 

He had murdered a brother.

He had been on his way to tell his brothers that he had done the unforgivable and that he would face the consequences. 

The Mayhem vote. He hadn't wanted to burden any of his friends with that shit, so he had decided that he would end his life himself and go out in the same way his father had done. 

Thereafter, there was a hole in his memory. He had waken up here. And fallen asleep. And awakened. Only God knew how many times. It was dark around him, the stones underneath him were hard and cold, the ones behind his back even humid. 

There was a pervasive coldness, feeling unnatural and giving him hope that he was tripping; that someone had injected some stuff to fuck with his mind – or maybe he had done it himself. So many horrible things had happened the past weeks that he wouldn't be surprised if something had snapped inside his head. Or maybe he was already dead. Maybe he had already crashed into a truck and was in hell now. 

"You're finally awake."

Jax raised his head. It was a familiar voice – and at the same time it killed all his theories. 

The door opened, squeaking. The figure entered the cell, lit a torch and placed it in a holder attached to the wall, the smoldering flames casting shadows on a pale face. 

It was indeed Juice. 

The man crouched in front of him and looked at him. 

No – it wasn't Juice. The last time he had seen the man, regret had been written all over his face; a tear had glided down his cheek. Now his glance was ice cold, his smirk sinister. And still it was unmistakably Juice. Someone who he had considered as a friend once, as family. Until he had covered up the murder of his wife. 

Seeing the man who had betrayed him in such a gruesome way, who had caused so much misery which had even led to Bobby's death, gave him new strength. Wherever he was, why he was here; he wouldn't let himself being pushed into a corner by that coward. 

"What are you doing here?" Provokingly, he lifted his chin. "Heard you were dead."

"I am dead."

Jax would never admit it out loud, but his tone made him shiver. "So what's this then? Hell?"

Juice lifted the corners of his mouth, so high it looked scary. "This is absolutely gonna be hell for you."

Jax could barely ignore the ice cube that was growing inside his stomach. He felt how the man had changed – and not in a positive way. There was a darkness inside him which was almost physical, leaving pinpricks on his skin. Still he managed to keep his face straight as he glared at the man. "I'm in hell for a while now."

Juice laughed softly. "Nah, you're not." The man grabbed his hand and attached the chain around his wrist to the shackle hanging down the wall, so his hand was on the same height as his head. 

"What the fuck are you gonna do with me man?" Jax grumbled. When Juice grasped his other arm, Jax tried to struggle but he had lost his strength the past hours. 

The man showed him a dark smile. "It's not me you should worry about. I will just watch."

With a click, his other wrist was attached to the wall as well. 

Jax swallowed. Goose bumps spread across his body. How could he get out of this? Could he get through to him by talking? "Why you doin' this man? Thought you regretted everything you did?"

"If you're fucked in the ass long enough there's nothing you're not regretting. But that's something you're gonna learn soon."

A shiver crept down his spine. Juice rolled up Jax's sleeve, his fingers felt ice cold on his skin, even when he was already frozen to the bone. 

"What happened to you man?" he muttered a little defeated. "And what happened to me? I..." He gritted his teeth as he felt the blade of a knife against his forearm. 

"Always talking huh? Well, that golden tongue of yours won't be of much help now,  _brother._ "

Jax clenched his jaw as the edge of the blade sank into his flesh. Blood bubbled up, gliding down his arm. 

Juice took a deep breath, his eyes were fixed on the dark fluid. 

What was he going to do? Letting him bleed to death? Leaving behind a network of cuts on his body? His eyes widened as the man's face suddenly came closer. He started to suck the wound; the injury stung. Jax tried to pull away his arm, but there wasn't enough room to move. 

"What the fuck man?!" he snarled when he realized that Juice was drinking his  _blood._ "Are you out of your fucking mind?!"

Slowly, Juice turned his face to the right. Blood dripped from his grinning lips, leaving bloody streaks on his chin. 

That however wasn't what made Jax cramp up completely. 

That were his eyes which were spreading a red glow, telling Jax that there was more going on than that the guy had just lost his mind. 


	16. Chapter 16

As soon as the first drops of blood glided through his throat, it felt like it streamed straight into his veins. Fizzing, churning, raging. Power spread through his limbs, his chest rose, his muscles swollen. 

He wasn't sure if the effect was solely caused by the blood. It could just as easily be caused by Jax's face. The fear glowing in his eyes, the corners of his mouth that were trembling because he had completely lost control of the situation...

It was wonderful. 

Juice licked his lips. "Delicious..." he said with a mischievous smirk. 

Jax didn't answer. Instead, his eyes flashed to the gradually bleeding wound. 

"Relax..." With his fingertips, he stroked the hairs on Jax's cheek. Seeing how he tried to move away from his touch, gave him an even more powerful feeling. There was no escape. Juice could do with him whatever the hell he wanted. "I won't let you bleed to death." He chuckled softly. "You don't deserve a quick dead. Maybe I won't allow you to die at all. Forever condemned to be my slave... How does that sound?"

The man snorted and spitted at his feet. "You're the same coward you were a week ago. An untrustworthy rat."

Juice shrugged his shoulders. "It's still an untrustworthy rat that's deciding your fate now."

"Abigail would be disgusted if she would see you like this."

 _Abigail..._ His arm shot forward. He grabbed Jax's throat and lifted him up until his face was turning purple. With his other hand he moved the knife to Jax's eye and pushed the point against his lower eyelid. "If you mention her name one more time, I will tear out your eyes,"  he threatened in a low voice. "Or I will cut out your tongue."

The man's jaws tensed, but he kept his mouth shut. There however was a hateful glare in his eyes. 

Juice couldn't care less about his hatred. For far too long he had tried to deserve Jax's approval, had he longed for his brotherly love. He was done with it. His hatred could grow. His hatred  _would_ grow. 

The cell door opened. "Hello Jackson."

A smirk crept on Juice's face as Scarlett stepped into the cell. She opened her shoulder bag, took out some patches and covered the wound. 

Jax's eyes flashed from Juice to Scarlett and back. It was clear that it all made no sense to him. 

"What's she doin' here?" the man snapped as his glance crossed Juice's. 

"Didn't you enjoy my hospitality?" Scarlett tilted her head. "My cordiality knows no boundaries. You don't have to be afraid that I will drag you out of this place violently, as happened in that beloved clubhouse of yours."

"That's on Hap, not on me," Jax grumbled. 

She shrugged her shoulders. "Happy will get his own VIP treatment." She gave him a dark smile, then she turned her attention to Juice. "You look much better, honey." She kissed his cheek – and her lips touched his skin a little longer than needed. She held his glance. 

Juice's breathing sped up. His blood seemed to crawl, as if it wanted to stream into her veins. Suddenly there was this longing to press his lips against hers, and quickly he tore away his glance.

"You're her whore now?" Jax taunted. "Abigail doesn't know what to do without you and in the meantime you're fu–"

"DON'T. SPEAK. OUT. HER. NAME!" he yelled. His finger nails cut into Jax's cheek and chin as he yanked his head backwards. His breathing fell, his fingers were clutched around the handle of the knife. "I warned you," he grumbled, placing the point of the weapon against the left corner of Jax's eye. He pushed and pulled the knife to the right.

Jax screamed bloody murder, yanking on his chains to move his hands to his face, but there was nothing he could do about the blood that was dripping down his eye. Juice moved his face closer to the gash that had almost cut his eyelid in two, inhaling the metallic scent of blood. Knowing Jax would be disgusted by it, Juice licked up his life force; it made his tongue tingle. 

Kicking and screaming, Jax smashed his head against Juice's, but all Juice did, was laugh. 

"Remember this,  _brother._ I will never hurt Abigail. The fact that she's suffering now, is  _your_ fault. And you're gonna pay for it." He grabbed Jax's chin, looking into his intact eye. "I'm not gonna destroy the other one. Cause you're gonna bawl your eyes out."

He let go of the man and stepped back. Jax was in too much pain to answer and was staring at the ground. With a satisfied grin Juice turned around and nodded to Scarlett, where after they left Jax behind in the cell. 

"So... how was my viewing?" Juice asked as they left the dungeons. The anger and power he had felt just a few minutes ago, slowly drifted away. "How was Abigail?"

"She's having a hard time, but she's strong. She's moving out of Charming."

Juice nodded slowly. That was probably for the best. They should have done that a long time ago. 

"Go clean yourself up Juice," Scarlett said when they reached the end of the stairs. "There's someone I want you to meet."

* * *

After taking a bath and having clothed himself in one of the old fashioned outfits, he waited until Scarlett returned. He didn't have to wait long. A long hallway brought them to a living room with red velvet couches. There were more people around, he noticed. Two were playing chess, a third was behind a grande piano. He was playing an enchanting melody, and Juice caught himself standing still in the middle of the room to listen to the play. 

As if the musician had heard his footsteps, he turned around. It was a young man, with a pale skin, raven black hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a burgundy coat with a dark stand up collar – very vampire-like. He stood up from the piano bench and sauntered to Juice, studying his face while tilting his head a little. 

"So... you must be Juice."

His voice sounded soft but dark. Something in his chest cramped; instinctively Juice knew that he was on the foot of the social vampire ladder while this man was on top. 

He nodded. "That's right... sir."

A brief smile crossed the face of the pianist. He held out his hand. "My name is Ephraim."

"Uhm... well, mine is Juice, as you know." Quickly he shook his hand, stepping back and humbly bowing his head. "Nice to meet you."

"You drank your first blood, right? I can smell it. Good. Hopefully you will feel strong enough to go to your funeral tomorrow."

"W-what? You want me to go to my own funeral?"

"Hidden for the mortal eye, of course. It will be a valuable lesson." He gave him a wink, turned around and sat down behind the piano again. 

A few seconds later his enchanting music echoed through the hall again. 

A little dazed Juice turned towards Scarlett. "Who is he?" he whispered. 

"Our Blood Master. He is one of the oldest and most powerful vampires. Everyone who has access to this castle, is connected to him by blood. You too, through me."

"Is he your master?" he asked. "The one who turned you into a vampire?"

She nodded. "He is."

He was silent for a while. Then he thought back to Ephraim's words. "Do I really have to attend my own funeral tomorrow?" 

"Absolutely." She squeezed his shoulder. "You have to say goodbye to Juice too. To your old life."

 


	17. Chapter 17

Agitated, he flapped his arms – which were wings now. They already felt heavy.  _"A bat? Why a fucking bat? What's wrong with a dog or something?"_ He wanted to yell the words, but the only sound leaving his mouth was a furious squeaking. 

Scarlett laughed softly, apparently she understood bat talk.  _Why am I even surprised._ He dropped down at the table. Awkwardly he walked a little, using his wings as front legs. It wasn't very comfortable and he let out a frustrated grunt. 

"We've always had a connection with bats. It's easier to change shapes when you're a bat."

_"But I hate bats! And the funeral is in broad daylight!"_

"You'll just have to hide in the shadows."

_"No! Fuck off with all this stupid crap! I'm going to my own fucking funeral, let me at least decide myself **how** I'm dressed."_

"I'm not a sorcerer, Juice. My powers are limited."

Juice didn't believe it at all. He just felt she was also able to turn him into a dog. 

With a sigh, she agreed. She folded her hands around him and his body started to get heated. His eyes saw nothing but dark spots, but when his vision returned he was higher on the table. He looked down, seeing a black fur with brown spots on his paws and chest. 

"You're a puppy. A Dobermann puppy. Happy now?"

Juice jumped off the table. Immediately he felt much more energetic and he ran around the room. Before he knew it, his tongue was out. 

_Fuck this is so weird._

"Come on Scooby Doo, let's go!'

Juice wanted to scowl at her because of the nickname, but instead he was only growling. Chuckling, she petted his head. 

* * *

Since Abigail knew that Scarlett didn't have a dog and because it was a little strange if the animal disappeared after one day, it was Ephraim who put the collar around his neck and put him on leash. Why the man was accompanying him, he didn't know. Scarlett had told him that he had pretended to be a trainee at the morgue and he would even lead the funeral. 

There was a gentle rain when they arrived at the cemetery. 

 _"I'm going to let you loose, but stay close,"_ Ephraim told him. 

The voice of the man felt viscous in his head, causing a dull headache. His  _okay_ came out in the form of a soft yapping. The fingers of the Darkling wandered across his neck, then he let go of the leash and headed towards the door of the meeting room. 

Juice assumed that dogs weren't allowed inside and roamed through the graveyard. It didn't take long before he found familiar headstones. Half Sack. Tara. Donna. Opie – well, it was an empty grave now, he realized. Gemma, he discovered, feeling shocked. 

A heavy feeling in his chest made it hard for him to return. Soon he would see his own grave. An empty coffin. 

And Abigail. 

His Abigail, who believed that he was dead. 

His eyes were itching, there however were no tears. Maybe dogs weren't able to cry. 

The rain drenched his fur and slowly he strolled back and started to look for his own headstone. It was a beautiful grey one in which a poem was carved. 

 _Softly the leaves of memory fall_  
Gently I gather and treasure them all   
Unseen, unheard you are always near  
So missed, so loved, so very dear

His name and dates of birth and death were written underneath it. Suddenly the realization hit him like a truck. 

He was dead. Juice was gone. 

Who or what he was now, he didn't even know; but he was certainly not the same person. 

Footsteps distracted him, a procession was coming closer. A few men wearing black were carrying the coffin, Ephraim on front. He always thought it would be his brothers holding the coffin. Now it were strangers. 

And there she was, behind the coffin. Scarlett was walking next to her, holding an umbrella above her head. Abigail was wearing a black dress and a black veil; despite all the sleepless nights and the grief she was as beautiful as the day he met her. Her hand went to her eyes as she wiped the tears. A sobbing sound left his lips when he noticed the ring around her finger; the ring he had never been able to give her. 

His chest cramped. He wanted to cry too, however couldn't. 

A small crowd followed her. More people than he had expected, he realized stunned. He had thought that Abigail would be the only one mourning his death, but he recognized Chibs and Tig, Venus and Lyla. Even his sister – and wait, even his mother. His sister was crying, and he even thought to see a tear on his mother's cheek. 

From between the bushes Juice watched everyone come closer. A few steps away from them they gathered around the grave. Her perfume rose above all the other smells, calling up such a painful longing that he buried his nails in the dirt. 

Words were spoken when the coffin was lowered, flowers falling down on it. Slowly the people walked by, whispering a farewell. Juice was too emotional to do anything. 

Abigail was the only one he could look at. 

She stayed behind, staring at the grave. Scarlett was on her left, Ephraim on her right. He growled when the man laid a hand on her shoulder. It was so unfair. He wanted to touch her too, he wanted to hold her so badly. 

Suddenly she started to cry. She dropped down on her knees, weeping so heart-wrenching that Juice was flinching. His girl, his love – she felt such a deep pain and he wasn't even dead. Not completely. 

Scarlett was about to kneel down next to her, but Ephraim raised his hand to stop her. 

_"You should go to her, Juice. Your presence will be more comforting than ours."_

Juice hesitated. He was just a dog. She wouldn't even recognize him. 

Still he left his hiding place reluctantly and walked towards her. With every step he took, her cries sounded more desperate. The sound of it tore him apart.

He sat down next to her, leaning with his head against her shoulder. She looked to the side, he shivered as she looked right into his eyes. 

 _"It's me,"_ he tried to tell her.  _"It's me baby."_

 _"She can't hear you,"_ Scarlett's voice sounded in his head. 

Abigail's fingers stroked his wet fur. In a whim she hugged him, burying her face into his fur while sobbing. Her tears dripped on his skin, making him shiver. Soothingly, he rubbed his head against her shoulder. 

Oh, if she only knew. 

If she only knew that she was mourning the one she was hugging now. 

 


End file.
